The sands of war, translation
by Halloween Wishes
Summary: Sick of the cold war between Demacia and Noxus and the damage it cause within the Institute, High Councilor Vessaria Kolminye decides to take action with some of her summoners' help. What she has in mind can as well bring peace all over Valoran or destroy the Institute. Will the champions be cooperative or will they ruin her plan?
1. Chapter 1

Hi,  
A few word to warn you on this one.  
This is the translation of my French first fic. I don't know why I felt the urge to translate it in English, I never done such a thing before and I am a little nervous. I hope you will like it.  
English is not my first language; please forgive me for the mistakes or spelling error I made.  
The main will be Darius/Lux and Talon/Quinn but there will be more as the story progress, like Garen/kata and other. I am not sure who but I will figure it out eventually. XD

Enjoy. ^^

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

The sun was barely raising, piercing the darkness with a pale, cold light and giving the sky and snow a pinkish glow. For weeks, a freezing wind blew over the area and it snowed most of the nights. But none of that seemed to bother Quinn as she walked slowly down of the stairs leading to the Institute of War's park, muffled in a thick winter cloak.

As soon as she put her feet in the thick layer of snow covering the lawn, Valor uttered a satisfied cry and took off with powerful flapping of his wings. For a moment, Quinn looked at him while he described wide circles above the park, before diving to a distant grove and disappearing behind the bare trees.

It was their little morning ritual. Used to get up early, Quinn always took advantage of the quiet morning to go out with Valor. Both were accustomed to the wide space and freedom and staying within the Institute's walls waiting for their matches was a painful change for them. Both were missing their long runs in the wild fields, the forest and the missions in enemy territory. Quinn knew perfectly well that Valor had nothing to do indoor. His wild nature drove him to freedom. He was made to soar in the sky, hunt prey and follow his instincts. He stayed within the Institute facility only because she was his friend and he wanted to please her. She was grateful and felt guilty for inflicting this to her friend.

For what? ... Of course, she was proud to be a demacian champion, proud to have been deemed worthy to wear her city's colors, proud to have Prince Jarvan's confidence. But she did not have many friends, someone to talk to, even within her own faction. She had never been very comfortable in society and obviously some demacian girls seemed to see her as a savage. Some particularly snobbish women like Fiora, did not seem to want to be seen with someone who took pleasure in rolling in the grass, sleeping in trees and wading in mud. Besides the duelist seemed to find ridiculous Queen's habit of carrying Valor everywhere with her and talk to him as if he was a human being. But that did not matter. Quinn knew he understood her and that was the most important thing.

Valor suddenly reappeared, carrying a white rabbit in his talons. He landed near the young woman and began to eat his breakfast with quick beak strokes. Quinn sighed and brushed a nearby bench with her bare hands to get rid of the thick layer of snow. She sat down, drawing a sketch book bound in leather from one of her pockets. While Valor devoured long shreds of raw meat, Quinn took the opportunity to draw the winter landscape. She had always loved drawing and was doing pretty well for someone who had never taken any courses. Her diary was full of her drawings: people portraits, sketches of buildings or landscapes seen during her travels.

A big icicle suddenly fell from nearby branch, making it crack loudly in the garden's muffled silence. Quinn immediately leapt to her feet, alert, while Valor flew of, screaming, leaving his meal. For a moment, she looked around her with a sharp look until a mocking laughter made her jump.

"For Demacia's elite scout, you're not very observant," said a mocking voice.  
A figure jumped from the pine tree from which the icicle had fallen and stood tall, eyeing Quinn.

"I could have killed you ten times, if I had wanted to."  
The young woman crossed her arms under her breast:

"And being excluded from the League?" She asked dubiously.

"Well, not if there is nobody left to prove that I am guilty. And since you're the only one able to recognize my methods for sure ..."  
He left his sentence unfinished. Quinn shuddered but could not tell if the cause was cold or the young man's sneer. She knew perfectly well that he was able to kill her, she knew him well. After all, she had spent days tracking him, not to avail. She knew better than anyone else what Talon was capable of. Better not take him lightly.

"You came just to prove you can catch me off guard?"

"No need to proof, everyone knows it," argued the assassin while crossing his arms over his chest with a defiant look.  
Quinn sighed, wondering why she was trying to argue with the Noxian. After all, he was like all his fellows: arrogant, provocative and dangerous. She silently held out her right arm to the side and Valor came to perch on her wrist.

"You know as well as I that habits are dangerous," said Talon.

"I do not see what I have to fear," replied the young woman turning back to the Institute main building. "Any aggression against another champion outside the Fields of Justice is strictly prohibited. The culprit would be expelled from the League and bring severe punishments upon his faction. I don't think Noxus could afford the risk just to see me disappear. I'm not that dangerous for them."  
For some reason she did not understand, Talon followed her as she entered the building.

"As I said: no evidence, no culprit!"

"Don't worry about it," said the demacian without looking at him. "I left enough notes and sketches on your assassination methods in my books to allow any fool to prove you are guilty."  
It had at least the merit to silence him, even if the smile on his face told no good.

After all, it was not completely wrong. Her notebooks really were overflowing with notes and details about the noxian assassin. She had begun to take note to gather her knowledge and information while tracking him, the first time. She continued as a habit and because, almost unconsciously, she began to admire his prowess: his deadly accuracy, effectiveness and boldness. Although actively sought by all possible demacian forces, Talon still managed to break into the royal palace to kill one of the king's closest advisers, before entering Quinn's home to put on her pillow his victim's hand whish still wore his official ring. Needless to say, his bravado was hard to take for Quinn as for all other demacian, and knowing that Talon had managed to escape after that made it even worse.

"Can I know why you follow me?" The scout asked, annoyed.

"I don't," nonchalantly replied the assassin. "It turns out that we are going in the same direction."  
Quinn gave him a sharp look over her shoulder, not failing to notice the smirk gracing his lips.

"It is rather you who follow me," Talon accused without losing his smile.

"What?"

"Before you came, I was the only one to come here at this time and enjoy the quiet solitude."  
The demacian wondered for a moment if it was true or if it was one of these cat and mouse games he always seemed eager to engage with her.

"Well, you don't have to give up. Val and I would have found another place."  
Still that damned smile!

"Who said I gave up?"  
She turned to him, dumbfounded.

"What?"  
She suddenly realized what it meant.

"You spy on us!?"  
Furious, she began a movement towards him as if to slap him, but he was faster. With an almost superhuman agility, Talon ducked her fist and slipped into her back before moving an arm around her neck and squeezing hard enough to block her, but still not enough to cut off her breathing. During the brief struggle, Valor had flown away to go to perch himself on a nearby statue's head. False friend! Quinn thought at her companion's flight. But she was not worried or angry. She knew perfectly well that Valor would not have left her if he had felt her unsafe.

"Now what?" She asked.  
She was surprised to hear her voice trembling.

"I don't know," Talon whispered in her ear.  
His warm breath caressed her cold skin making her shiver.

"Lets play a little game, kitten!"  
His lips brushed against the Demacian's ear and she had to hold back a gasp. But she did not have time to be offended or to show her outrage at his proposal, and even less to protest the use of the nickname he had given her.

"Quinn?"  
The young woman felt relief washing over her. Talon turned his head to see, coming from the other end of the hall, the girl Katarina had nicknamed Miss Rainbow: Luxanna Crowngard, flanked by the imposing figure of her brother, Garen.

"What's going on here," the demacian general groaned, one hand on the hilt of the sword he always carried with him.  
Instead of answering, Talon let Quinn go and she moved away from him as if he had burned her. For a moment, the assassin eyed the three demacian without a word, and then he turned away without making any aggressive move toward them.

"I am leaving you three among defenders of justice," he said with a hint of sarcasm. I hope you will do better than that during the match, kitten.  
And with that, he vanished, leaving the three demacian a bit frozen.

"This dirty snake!" Garen snarled looking where Talon stood just a second before.  
Lux rushed to Quinn:

"Are you all right, did he do something to you?"

"I'm fine," said the scout while her heart began to regain a normal rhythm. "He did nothing to me. I think he just wanted to play."

"Play?" Garen repeated, frowning.  
Quinn nodded while Valor came back to perch on her shoulder.

"It's hard to explain. I sometimes feel that all our encounters were just games for him, a game in which he is a mouse and I, a cat unable to catch him. Every time he escapes me shows how I am way below his level."  
She said that without looking at her companions, absentmindedly stroking Valor's blue feather.

"And that kitten thing?" Garen asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"Same thing, sighed Quinn. Kittens are unable to catch mice, aren't they?"  
The demacian general do not seem convinced, but Quinn did not care. She was disturbed. Kitten? ... She had repeatedly referred to this game in her notebook and had even compared herself to a clumsy kitten in her inability to capture the noxian assassin. How could he know? Quinn knew it was no accident. Did Talon had taken the risk to go to the Institute's demacian area to learn more about her? After all, he had managed to get in home in Demacia. Enter her apartment, in the Institute, to read her notebook, should not be an impossible task for him. Rather, it was the kind of challenges he loved to take up. The most amazing thing in that was she had never realized the slightest intrusion into her apartment, either in her presence or not.

She really was not at his level!

Garen seemed to want to go further in the interrogation, but Lux dissuaded him with a glance. She grabbed Quinn's arm and dragged her into the hall, towards the Institute's common dining room.

"Come on," she said with her usual good mood. "A good breakfast and everything will seem ridiculous. You're going to kick his ass during the game."  
The game! Quinn had almost forgotten it. She was in no hurry to play it. Talon will be there as well and, as always, they would find themselves face to face. The assassin always managed to fight her, just to humiliate her more.

Damn noxian!

Seeming to understand her discouragement, Valor tried to reassure her by stroking her cheek with his head. He made a strange little sound, like a cat's purr. Quinn thanked him for his support by placing a quick kiss on his head.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, new chapter everyone. ^^  
Thanks for your review, I'm really happy.  
shloop: you're right for the quotation mark. I fixed chapter 1, I hope it'll be ok. ^^**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 2.**

The Institute of War only had a single dining hall where everyone sat for lunch, champions and summoners alike. Numerous groups of small tables took all the space, with no established order, and if no rule settled the guests' placement, the champions usually choose to sit with the members of their own faction. Although the Institute was trying to encourage the creation of links between them, it was rare to see the various champions mix together, especially those from Noxus and Demacia. Of course, some exceptions still existed, going from table to table, following their moods, but they were rare.

When Quinn stepped into the dining hall with the Crowngard siblings, Valor flew off to perch in his favorite spot on the head of a statue by the demacian table. The three of them headed to the buffet where a few other champions were already helping themselves. Garen seized a plate and generously filled it with anything in view: omelet, potatoes and bacon, bread and cheese, while Lux went around the table to join Leona, causing Quinn to follow behind her. The three young women greeted warmly each other and began to choose their food while chatting. Well, Lux and Leona were talking while Quinn just listened absently, embarrassed by the feeling of an insistent gaze on her. She did not turn around to see who could look at her like that; sure she would only see a pair of hazel eyes she knew too well. Instead, she put some pancake on her plate, a little marmalade and a few grains of grapes before leaving Lux and Leona to join the demacian table.

Garen was already talking with Jarvan, establishing strategies for the game. The prince was not involved in their match, he had another one to attend later in the day, but he could not help imagining various means to crush the noxian. In addition to Talon, Quinn had learned that Darius and his brother, Draven, also attended the game. Jarvan could not help pushing Garen to crush his noxian alter-ego. But the two generals were equal in strength and the fight did not end in Demacia's favor as often as the prince would have liked.

Quinn sat down in an empty seat near Garen and listened the two men talk without disturbing them. She did not care about Jarvan's anti-noxian strategies. Looking at her plate in silence, she absentmindedly rolled a grape with her fork. She was not very hungry, but she could not tell what was cutting her appetite: the encounter with Talon, the game, or just Fiora and her snobbish behavior, sitting in front of her. Quinn was not one to hate anyone but certainly the duelist was in leading position in the list of the people she liked the least. Moreover, it seemed that she was not the only one avoiding the duelist. Fiora appeared to have fewer friends than her within the Institute.

Lux came to the table minutes later, sitting beside Quinn, and greeting everybody with her usual enthusiasm. On her tray, she had a steaming cup of tea, a bowl of yogurt to which she had added a handful of toasted cereal, a cup of fruit and two warm strawberry tarts.

"By the way, did you know?" She threw pouring some of her fruit in her yogurt. "Gragas organize a party in his tavern, tonight, to celebrate the new vintage of his famous Icewine."  
The last party organized by the innkeeper, about a month earlier, would definitely stay in the Institute's legend due to its duration, the number of champions involved, and, especially, the number of empty barrels stored in front of the establishment the next day. Dissatisfied, Vessalya Kolmyre had been forced to cancel all matches for three days to let the party-goers time to recover.

"Don't talk about that," groaned Garen, "I still have a headache when I think about it."  
It made the petite blonde laugh.

"You shouldn't have let Twisted Fate drag you in a drinking contest."  
Garen snarled.

"It was worth it," said Lux with a beaming smile, "just to see Draven declare his eternal love to Bristle!"  
They let out a mocking laughter at the memory.

"I would have liked to spend the rest of my life without seeing Gragas dancing naked before me", groaned Jarvan with the same defeated look than Garen. "I still have nightmares about it."  
From the corner of her eye, Quinn saw Garen bite his lips to keep from laughing. Lux was about to retort when the door of the dining hall burst open, interrupting all the conversation. In the brief silence that followed, Draven made a triumphal entry exclaiming loudly:

"Don't wet your panties, girls, Draaaaaaaaaven is here."  
He raised his arms above his head in triumph, like an athlete acclaimed by his fans. From their table, the demacian could see Darius, who followed his brother, rolling his eyes before walking away without a word. He joined the table where Swain, Katarina and Talon already sat, ignoring one another.

"Darius must have such patience," remarked Lux, her eyes fixed on the noxian general, clad in his dark red noxian officer uniform.  
Jarvan turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know if I could stand Garen if he behaved like Draven," confessed the blonde.

"Oh, don't worry about him; Darius retaliates sometimes," said her brother, laughing. "Whoever took these photos of Draven hugging Bristle was awfully well informed, don't you think."  
In the days following Gragas' party, several photos showing a very drunk Draven vainly trying to seduce a very stunned Bristle could be found all over the Institute and gave birth to various jokes and rumors about the Executioner's so-called deviant sexuality. Draven had been in a very bad mood for weeks, while his brother, on the other hand, looked rather pretty happy.

"It was Darius?" Lux asked, trying to suppress a laugh.

"Who else," confirmed Garen, a smirk on his lips.  
As he spoke, the subject of their conversation circled the buffet trying to seem impressive.

"What a peacock!" Fiora thought with disdain.  
Quinn really didn't understand the duelist. Nobody seemed to please her, nor those who were not very careful of their appearance and reputation, nor those who were, on the contrary, too careful about it.

Quinn sighed and cast a glance over her shoulder to make sure that Valor was still on his spot. When she looked down, her eyes fell on Draven. He strutted around the buffet, clearly trying to attract Caitlyn and Sona's attention. The Sheriff of Piltover simply ignored him and walked away without looking at him, joining Vi and Jayce at their table. Sona sent the noxian an apologetic smile before coming to sit by Lux. The blonde did not give her time to put down her tray before asking:

"Hey Sona, you will come to Gragas' party tonight?"  
The musician sat on the bench with a positive nod, then raised her hands and mimed the action of playing her strange instrument.

"Are you going to take care of the music?"  
Sona made a hand gesture signifying that Lux was not far from the truth, and then she slowly raised five fingers one after the other. Lux watched her with wide eyes.

"Gragas hired Pentakill?"  
Sona agreed with a nod and Lux squealed, excitedly hopping on her chair, attracting the attention of all the other tables.

"I really must go!" She cried with excitement.  
Garen sighed. Lux became untenable when someone mentioned this group to her and, frankly, he did not really understand why. He looked at his sister while she was talking animatedly to Sona who merely nodded with an indulgent smile.

Garen resumed his conversation with Jarvan and Lux was busy with Sona. Her tight-lipped frown on her face, Fiora took her tray and went away without saying a word. Quinn was left alone again. With nothing else to do, the scout looked down at her plate. She hadn't eaten a thing and felt no sort of attraction for the contents of her plate. She nevertheless forced herself to swallow two pancakes generously spread with marmalade, but it was like chewing cardboard.

The feeling of being spied came back again, but when she raised her head to look around, she saw no one looking toward her. At the noxian table, Draven seemed tell something hilarious while no one was paying attention to him. Darius was immersed in reading a sheaf of papers that appeared official and Katarina talked with Talon who, for once, had dropped his hood on his shoulders, revealing an angular face, the hazel eyes that haunted the young woman and a mass of black hair carelessly tied with a leather lace. When Quinn turned away, the assassin looked up and their eyes met briefly. Immediately, the young woman felt a strong shudder up her spine and she hurried to look away, but not fast enough to not see Talon's smirk. Annoyed, she ran a hand over her face.

A rustle of wings caught her attention just before the familiar weight of Valor landed on her shoulder. The eagle rubbed his head against his friend's cheek, purring. He probably felt her discomfort. Quinn silently thanked him by handing him one of the remaining grapes from her plate. He gently took it in his beak before swallowing it.

"Thanks God you're here, Val," whispered the young woman.  
Deciding she had spent enough time here, Quinn stood up and took her tray to return it to the rack at the end of the hall, while Valor silently circled above her. He rushed through the front door when she exited the room and landed on her shoulder.

Quinn had almost an hour to spare before the rendezvous for the game. She returned to her apartment in the demacian area, greeting Xin Zhao and Galio when she passed them in the hall. Once home, she flung open one of the windows and let Valor go out to stretch his wings. Her diary was waiting on her desk, where she had left it the day before. The young woman looked at it a moment, wondering how far Talon had read it and if it was a good idea to continue writing in it. What had seemed so innocent and natural as a teenager seemed now too dangerous. She was glad she had never revealed any secrets about Demacia in it. For a moment she thought of buying a box in which she could put it when she didn't use it, but she knew full well that Talon will not let any lock stop him.

She really does not understand the noxian's determination to pursue and mock her. No other noxian take such a pleasure to humiliate his nemesis as Talon did. Except, perhaps, Swain, who never missed an opportunity to show Jarvan how he was higher than him. And Draven, too ... But Draven was Draven and he could not, by definition, act otherwise. Even Katarina, playful and cruel feline, was not so harsh. So what was different with her? What had she done to Talon to attract his mockery? She had no idea.

Tired, she sat behind her desk and untied the tie that held it close. She flipped thoughtfully through the page, sometimes stopping on an image or story that particularly pleased her, thinking that the answer might be between these pages. When she got to the last page, however, her heart froze in her chest and she made a leap backwards, knocking her chair and various supplies placed on the desktop. A single sentence, in a small sharp handwriting, spread out in the middle of the last page she had left blank:

_"Good luck for the match, kitten!"_

In a fit of anger, Quinn swept her arms across the desk, throwing all that was on it to the ground: feathers, charcoals, scrolls and even the ink bottle, which fortunately fell on the carpet without breaking. Her diary flew at the foot of her bed, letting out a few leaflets.

She had to do something. Talon could not continue to play like that with her sanity and penetrate her home with impunity. The Institute could force him to leave her alone between matches. Amaya Sunbringer, Demacia High Summoner, could help her. She had to talk to her.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you so much for your reveiws. I am so happy.  
I am glad you like my story, so go for chapter 3.

In this chapter a litle less Quinn/Talon, a little more Lux/Darius. XD

Enjoy. ^^

* * *

**Chapter 3:**

The sudden move on her left interrupted the one-sided chat between Lux and Sona. Turning her head, she looked as Quinn stood in silence before bringing back her tray and leave the room. A worried frown appeared on her usually playful face. Quinn had never been her more sociable teammates but Lux was proud to be one of her few friends. She knew the scout well enough to see that something was wrong.

Lux knew that Quinn had not lightheartedly agreed to join the institute. She did because she thought it was her duty. The falconer did not consider herself worthy of such an honor and thought that hers place was on the battlefield, behind enemy lines. But with the uneasy peace established by the Institute, there weren't enemy lines anymore. The war had moved on the Institute's Fields of Justice. However, sometimes, Quinn seemed preoccupied, lost in thought, sometimes furious without saying why. Lux was more perceptive than some wanted to believe, and she guessed that Talon was somehow involved. She did not know what was going on between the scout and the assassin but it had repercussions on Quinn's mood. Normally, she would rush to the culprit to say to him what she was thinking, but Talon was a Noxian and she doubted her intervention would do anything good. It could only to make things worse.

A little worried for her friend, Lux threw a glance at the Noxian table and was pleased to see Talon sitting in his chair, showing no desire to follow Quinn. She then turned to her comrades.

"Don't you find Quinn strange?"  
Garen and Jarvan interrupted their chat and turned toward her.

"She seems depressed," the blonde said.

"You're right," agreed the prince. "I think it's hard for her to get used to the League. She seems to miss Demacia."  
Lux was both appreciative of Jarvan's attention toward his companions and amazed by his lack of discernment. Or was it his love for their country who makes him that blind?

"May be she needs a little vacation," said Garen.

"May be," Lux answered evasively while thinking it was probably better if Quinn stayed within the Institute.  
It would be easier to look after Talon here than in Demacia if he decided to follow the scout to torment her.

"I should spend more time with her. I think I'll invite her to the party tonight."

"It might be a good idea," Jarvan nodded.  
The topic dropped with Shyvana's sudden arrival. Lux cheerfully greeted the newcomer before losing interest in the discussion. The half dragon was engaged in the same match than Jarvan, later in the day, and both quickly began to talk about their teammates and opponents and evoke both their strengths and weaknesses.

Lux finished her breakfast chatting with Sona. Or rather talking and looking Sona nodding while smiling. The Lady of Luminosity seemed to have recovered her cheerful self but the musician still felt the concern the blonde was trying to hide. She knew how her friends were important for Lux, but she did not know what she could do to help her, except to be there and bring the blond her support as best as she could.

The two young women brought back their trays and headed for the door, walking from tables to table so Lux can greet her friends and invite them to Gragas' party. None of them refused, which Sona found fun. It was hard to say no to Lux's big smile when faced it. It was probably the blonde's most dangerous weapon. She joyfully walked through the door, hopping in a perfect imitation of the young Annie.

"I wonder what Gragas has in mind this time," she said with enthusiasm. "It will probably be a big surprise. You think there will be a snow fountain, like last time?"  
Sona shook her head as a sign of ignorance.

"Ziggs had used it to throw snowball on everyone. It had nearly turned to brawl. He spent the rest of the night with hanging by his shirt on a peg behind the main door."  
she tried to choke back her laugh with her hand, embarrassed to find funny the yordle blaster's little misadventure, but he had bring it upon himself.

"Poor Ziggs" she said, calming down. "I wonder who could do that to him?"

"Your brother, I fear," said a deep voice behind her.  
Lux jumped with a surprised cry. Her enthusiasm and joy escaped her like air from a deflated balloon when she saw who was standing behind her.

"Darius," she stiffly bowed her head.  
The Noxian General stared at her in silence before slightly tilting his head as a salutation. Lux was not at ease with him. Not only he was a Noxian, the most powerful after Swain, but he was particularly impressive. Firstly by his stature. Garen and Jarvan were tall, well-built and broad-shouldered, but Darius seemed much more impressive, even without his heavy armor. Secondly, unlike the two Demacian, the Noxian never smiled, well except his sarcastic and arrogant smirk when he killed one of them in a fight. He always seemed moody, as if to dissuade others from getting too close and disturb him for nothing, although Lux had to admit she had never seen him really angry. He was always calm, cold and distant, which did not make him the most sociable League Champion.

After looking both Demacian down in silence for a moment, Darius walked past them and down the hall with a firm step. Unlike other members of his faction, he was not interested in small corridors quarrels. Although taking Demacia and all its representatives as the opponent to crush, he preferred to do it on the Fields of Justice where he was always merciless. Lux frowned, thinking he was part of the opposing team in the game she will play today. Usually, Garen would face him one on one to protect his comrades, but their fight always leave him utterly exhausted, as his opponent. The Institute had quite terrifying champions, like the Void's monster, but Darius was part of the most fearsome, in Lux's mind.

Lux took a few steps in the hallway, staring at the Noxian's broad back. She would never admit it out loud, not even under torture, but his dark red uniform fitted him particularly well and helped to make him even more impressive. It was perhaps the long jacket or his way to wear it; she did not know and did not want to know. It was already shameful enough to admire an enemy; she did not need to know why. She did not want to think about what Jarvan Garen would say if they knew. It might not be pretty! She admonished herself in silence when suddenly an idea struck her.

"How stupid I am!" she exclaimed, slapping her forehead.  
Sona looked at her in surprise, but Lux did not care.

"Hey, Darius," she called, rushing behind him.  
The Noxian general had reached a cross between two corridors and was about to go back in Noxus area when he turned to her, raising his scared eyebrow.

"Is there a problem, lady Luxanna?" He asked in a neutral voice.  
Always this cold and insolent politeness which meant there was no possible agreement between them and that if he did not just crush her on the spot, it was because the League prevented him to. It was clear that he felt superior to her.

"It could be," she said, stopping in front of him.  
He was towering her, tall and proud, and gave the impression of being able to crush her with his bare hands; but the petite blonde was determined to not let him intimidate her. She planted her blue eyes in his gray green ones. Sona remained cautiously behind her.

"I noticed that Talon took particular pleasure in harassing Quinn," threw the blonde in a firm voice. "It has to stop."  
Giving orders to an enemy general who was more accustomed to giving than in receiving them, was probably not a good idea, but Lux did not care. Darius crossed his arms over his broad chest and Lux wondered how he could fit his muscles in his jacket without ripping the seams.

"I don't see why I should care," he coldly replied, displeased.  
A shiver went up along Lux's back but she was not going to back out now.

"You're the Noxian high general, aren't you?" she replied in a voice colder than necessary. "You know how to make your troops obey, I guess."  
Darius' sharp gaze grew colder.

"If Talon obeys someone it's Katarina, and I'm not even sure. It's to her you should go talk. Frankly, if your friend is really unable to fend for herself, she should perhaps consider giving up her position as champion."

"I don't ask your opinion," threw Lux, offended.  
Darius gave her a cold smirk.

"True. You're just asking for my help."  
Lux clenched her fists, ready to answer back when a voice interrupted her.

"Oh, you're here, Lux."  
Both turned in the direction of the newcomer to see Ezreal. Purposely ignoring Darius and Sona, the blond piltovian threw the Demacian a confident smirk.

"I was looking for you, babe. Ready to make some jealous and spend the best time of your life? You will have the luck to go to the party with me. Class, huh!"  
Without waiting for Lux's answer, he put an arm around her waist and pressed her against him before dragging her toward the dinning hall.

"Ez?!" She protested, taken aback.

"Don't be shy, I know you want it. Who wouldn't go out with Runterra's greatest archaeologist?"  
The door closed behind them, cutting the Demacian's answer.

"Archaeologist?" Darius said, vaguely offended. "I'd rather say tomb raider. This brat is even worse than Draven. I thought that a Crowngard heiress had better taste in men!"  
He cast a glance toward Sona who shrugged in ignorance. With a disdainful snort, the Noxian turned and disappeared down the hall, in order to regain his apartment and prepare for the game.

*** * The sands of war * ***

Once she had calmed down, Quinn walked to the window and breathed a long gulp of cold morning air before whistling Valor. The eagle came after few minutes to land on the young woman's outstretched hand. He allowed himself to be quietly carried in the corner of the room and jumped on his perch without being asked, knowing what that meant. Quinn let him perch wherever he wanted, usually on the head of the bed or on top of the opened bathroom door, but she always used the perch to prepare him for a fight. Valor quietly waited for her to return with his breastplate and did not move a feather as she adjusted it on his chest. When it was done, she walked away to prepare herself for the match. Once she had her crossbow in hand, she felt slightly better. Her situation did not change but she had the feeling of being in a better control.

Champions summoned for the match were to meet in invoking room number three, fifteen minutes before the beginning of the game. One she was ready, Quinn whistled Valor and left her apartment. She met no one on in the hall, but once in the room, she realized she was not the first: Morgana paced back and forth, her withered and useless wings hanging down behind her. The two women greeted each other with a nod. The fallen angel resumed her pace while Quinn did some warm up exercises.

A few minutes later, Darius and Draven entered the room, closely followed by Talon. Still furious, Quinn acted as if he was not there and keep warming-up. She did not have to suffer this too long. Garen came a few minutes later, accompanied by Lux which was reeling off a flood of words at incredible speed. Quinn did not pay attention. The Crowngard siblings joined her and the three of them waited in the opposite corner to where Darius and his brother stood. Talon had slipped into the shadows and only the shimmering blade adorning his cloak allowed Quinn to guess his position.

A group Summoners walked into the room. Those whose champions were already there joined them and began to talk strategy. Others began to prepare everything in silence. The invocations platforms had just been activated when Syndra came in, followed by Miss Fortune few moments later. Finally, more than fifteen minutes late, Ezreal entered the room, with a swaggering pace. He didn't give anyone a single word of apology when he stood in front of Lux, a flirtatious smile on his lips.

"Well," said the clear but authoritative voice of a tall brunette with a long braid.  
Quinn recognized Meirin Windhelm, Noxus High Summoner and Darius' appointed summoner.

"Now that we're all here, at least, let's begin, please."  
She glanced toward Ezreal who do not make the slightest attention to her.

"The captains may approach."  
Darius and Garen walked to her, silently gauging each other.

"Garen Crowngard's team represents the defense," announced Meirin. "The chose is his."  
She showed a heavy token the size of a large piece, to the two captains and slowly turned it between her fingers to prove it was not fake and did have two different sides. Then she threw it in the air.

"Sword!" Garen announced before it hits the ground.  
The token fell with a loud clatter in the silence of the room. Both general and Summoner leaned over it and Garen let out a curse under his breath when he saw the face decorated with a shield.

"I am sorry," said Meirin without mockery. "The shield provides the side choice to the attacking team."  
She turned to Darius, silently questioning him.

"Blue," he tersely announced.

"So be it," concluded Meirin. "Champions, at your bases."  
Both team got to the invocation platform corresponding to the base they had to defend. The summoners set up around them, placing their hands on the crystal balls embedded in the platforms. Each of them lit up instantly and runes placed on the ground, under the champions' feet, began to pulsate with magical energy, forming a complex figure. Summoners channeled their magic towards the crystal balls and the platforms to magically link their minds to their champion's for the duration of the match. A bright flash burst out, flooding the room with a wave of white light and the champions were sent across Valoran to the Summoner's Rift.

The match was about to begin.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

Quinn swallowed nervously when the light flooded the room. She felt Valor gently squeeze his talons on her arm to reassure her. A second later, she felt herself seized by an invisible hand and her feet left the ground. She closed her eyes while a familiar but unpleasant shiver went through her body. For a second, the wind roared in her ears. It ended as fast as it began. Her feet touched the ground again and she opened her eyes on the purple base of Summoner's Rift.

It took her a moment to regain her senses and mechanically ensure that her companions were all here. A few seconds later, they regrouped around Garen.

"We will start cautiously, harassing them and tiring them out gradually," he ordered. "Their team has great potential but what will miss them is cohesion. Try to take them one by one, keep a reasonable distance, do not approach unnecessarily."  
He looked at them.

"Our setting does not play to our advantage, but we can win if we fight as a team and help each other. Darius will definitely take the top lane, as he is accustomed to. I'll take care of him. Lux, Quinn, you ..."

"I'm going with Lux," interrupted Ezreal. "We will crush them".  
Without waiting for Garen's agreement, he put an arm around the blonde's waist and led her to the bot lane.

"Hey!" Garen protested.  
But the two blonde had already disappeared behind the trees.

"That arrogant brat ..."  
He stopped, seeing Morgana walk away toward the middle lane.

"OK!" He sighed, annoyed.  
He glanced at Quinn, the only one who stayed to await his orders.

"Come on," he said, nodding at her.

*** * ****The sands of war**** * ***

The light faded and Darius cast a glance at the familiar landscape around him. The blue base was covered with a thick layer of snow and the nexus tinged it with a cold glow. The trees bent under their immaculate burden and the three lanes were hidden under the white blanket.

"Snow," Talon sighed kneeling to examine the ground. "No use trying to hide in the bushes."  
The trail in the snow would betray all attempts to ambush the enemy team, at least early in the game. Later, when the ground would be trampled, it would be easier to cover their footprint around the bushes.

Darius did not pay attention to the assassin, after a quick inspection of the trees lining the base, he turned to his teammates. They were individualists and would not facilitate his work, but he had already subdued worse.

"I know Garen Crowngard well enough to know how he thinks," he began. "He will assume I will take the top lane, probably alone. We're going to take him off guard. I will go bot lane with Draven."  
He turned to Talon and Miss Fortune:

"I'll let you take care of Crowngard."  
He then turned to Syndra who gave him a quick nod to assure him she knew what she had to do.

"Don't let them escape," Darius ordered. "Crush them whenever you get a chance. Harass them, push them to despair and they'll lose the will to fight."  
With that, he nodded at them and they understood that it was time to go.

Draven did not wait for his brother's order to run into the forest. An axe in each hand, he cavorted like a kid on the slippery floor. Slowed by his heavy armor, Darius followed about ten feet behind him. He knew his tactic was risky. His axe did not give him enough stretches to fight against the enemy's marksman, probably the eagle girl for whom Luxana had come to him, but he knew that Draven would be happy to take care of her. He would ensure that her support, either Luxana or that annoying piltovian, does not interfere with his brother's work. By the time the Might of Demacia realizes his mistake and come to the counter him, his team would have had time to take the advantage. All they will have to do then would be to keep it.

A few feet after the base's limits, the pavement made way for a muddy trail covered in ice. Darius slipped twice before reaching the inner turret, barely managing to keep his balance. When he joined Draven under his team's turret, he was in a bad mood.

"It's not even started yet and you're already on edge?" The executor threw with a smirk.  
Darius gave him an icy stare that did not seem to bother his brother.

_"Don't tell me it's the first time you get to fight in the snow?"_ said Meirin's slightly mocking voice, in his mind.

_"No,"_ growled the general through their telepathic bond.

_"You reassure me!"  
_Irritated, Darius ordered her to stop making fun of him. She knew perfectly well that he had already seen the Rift under the snow, she had invoked him.

_"The hostilities have begun,"_ announced the summoner more seriously. _"Syndra pushed Morgana under her turret. And the minions are coming."_

_"Good!"  
_Draven seemed to have received the same information. He cast a glance behind them and ran out of the turret's protective halo when the minions rushed past them.

The brothers wasted no time and rushed to the wave of purple minions as soon as it came to them. They had already killed several of them when a bright flash took Draven by surprise. He narrowly avoided the light orb threw toward him. Luxana Crowngard, perfect! Exactly as planned, thought Darius. However, what he had not expected was the energy bolt that struck him hard, two seconds later, making him step back. Hardly shaken, he swung his axe with ease and did not try to suppress a smirk when he felt the wide blade mowing Ezreal down. The blonde rolled on the snow covered ground, blood splattering around him. It was not enough to kill him, however, and the piltovian stood up, holding his left shoulder in pain. Lux jumped back and threw her staff charged with magical energy, enveloping the adventurer with a protective bubble. One of Draven's axes came bouncing on the shield without hurting the blond. The spell lasted just long enough to allow Ezreal to hide under his tower. Lux backed away, throwing her Light Binding on Darius, and joined her teammate, dodging Draven's axes.

The brothers finished the last purple minions and approached the enemy turret. Without acknowledging the two defenders, Draven aimed at the tower as it decimated the last blue minions. Lux targeted him with her Lucent Singularity, forcing him to retreat to dodge the blast. Darius, who had not followed his brother into the turret's danger zone, harpooned Ezreal with his axe and pulled him away from the tower's range. Taking advantage of the surprise, he hit his opponent twice before the blond could rush back to his turret. Merciless, the Noxian leapt to his target, wielding his axe above his head, and struck him with a terrible blow which nearly split the piltovian in two. Ezreal fell dead while the turret was firing on Darius. The Noxian stepped back, taking the blows without flinching.

"You badly choose your knight, lady Luxana."  
He saw with a great satisfaction the young woman bite her lips and turn pale. It was pleasant to taunt her; she showed more reaction than her brother. In response, Lux concentrated her magic in front of her.

"Demaciaaaah!"  
The beam of light shot out like a laser.

"What!"  
Draven jumped out of reach, launching one of his axes ono the young woman as a defense. Darius had less luck. He stepped to the side to dodge, but not fast enough. The beam struck him in the side. He rolled in the bushes, left arm and shoulder severely burned under his white-hot armor. Gritting his teeth, he straightened himself, leaning on his axe. Draven carried on assailing Lux, throwing his axes on her one after the other. He seemed to handle the situation.

"I recall," announced Darius.  
No need to dwell with his wounds while his brother had the advantage upon the Demacian. Draven showed no sign of having heard, but Darius knew his summoner had given him the message. He took cover and let Meirin recall him to his base. A bluish flash later, he found himself at the blue fountain. He could immediately feel its healing power ease his pain and soothe his burns, healing his bruised flesh.

_"Meirin, report."_

_"Hey, I'm not one of your soldiers,"_ replied the summoner. _"Everything is going well. Quinn managed to kill Talon but Miss Fortune gets to keep Garen at bay. Syndra and Morgana are still shoulder to shoulder and ... Ha, Draven just killed Lux. We have a slight advantage."_

_"Good!"  
_His wounds healed, Darius stepped out of the fountain. At the same time, Talon appeared near him, coming out of nowhere. He seemed particularly annoyed, probably because he had just been killed. He vanished in silence.

_"Send me back, Meirin,"_ Darius ordered.  
The summoner chose a minion to anchor her spell and, a moment later, the Noxian General was teleported near the Violet Turret. He arrived just on time. Harassed by Ezreal, after taking several hit by Lux just before, Draven seemed on verge of exhaustion. The piltovian launched spell after spell while staying under his turret's protection.

"Coward," Darius growled, protecting his brother.

"I'd rather say I'm cautious," taunted the blond.  
Ezreal had learned the lesson. Now he remained out of Darius' Apprehend's range to avoid being pulled out of his security zone once again. It annoyed Darius even more.

While Darius undertook to stop most of the piltovian's spells, Draven concentrated his last forces on the minions. When they were all killed, the brothers aimed their attacks at the turret. It took an effort to Darius not to throw himself on Ezreal. His axe had scarcely touched the tower when a ball of light shot out to him before exploding, forcing him to retreat. Lux came under the turret to support Ezreal.

"You come just on time to see a genius at work, babe," threw the piltovian arrogantly.  
Focusing his magic in his amulet, he formed an arc of energy in front of him before throwing it at the two Noxian. Meirin used her flash spell to put Darius out of reach, into the bushes. The general turned in time to see his brother on the ground, raising one arm to the sky before it falls back, not moving.

Darius' anger flared. Few people knew it, but the two brothers were much closer than they let the others see and Darius was still bound by his promise to protect his younger brother. No one could take down Draven and escape safely. Not in front of him, anyway. This damned piltovian was going to pay.

Clenching his jaw, he tightened his grip on his axe and gave a look full of hatred and threats to his newfound target. Ezreal seemed to realize it because Darius was pleased to see him pale. Few champions found favor in the Noxian General's eyes. For him, they were a bunch of cowards and weakling whose only interest was to be crushed in the Fields of Justice for Noxus' glory. The only ones to stand out were Garen and Luxana Crowngard, Jarvan Lightshield, Swain, of course and, to a lesser extent, Katarina du Couteau. The others were only a bother which did not deserve his time. But among them there was one whose mere presence was enough to really make his hackles rise, and it was this poor excuse of a sorcerer. Ezreal, the so-called genius, as proud as a peacock, behaving as if the Institute belonged to him, strutting like a victorious general in the halls, courting every girl in sight as if he was the only worthy man in Runeterra. His only glory was the unfortunate discovery of a cursed amulet in a dusty tomb, nothing worth of interest!

One could believe that someone living with Draven could forgive any excesses of arrogances, but it was not the case. The difference was that Draven was acting. It was all part of the character he had created as a child to protect himself from the harshness of Noxus' streets. Ezreal, however, was convinced that the world was waiting for him. It was time to get him back on earth! And that's exactly what Darius intended to do.

With a cruel smile, Darius rushed on the piltovian, forcing the passage under the turret. Ezreal did not wait for him and flee without thinking. Throwing his axe forward, Darius grabbed him before pulling the blond towards him. Ezreal jumped to escape, but the flat of the axe struck him hard, throwing him to the ground. Darius walked on the blond to finish him when a light curtain suddenly closed upon him, preventing him from advancing further. Lux emerged from bushes twirling her staff. She threw it to Ezreal to wrap him in a protective bubble before joining him. At the same time, Light Binding vanished; releasing Darius, and the Noxian immediately threw his axe at the two blonds. Ezreal jumped to the side to dodge and the axe snatched Lux. The petite blonde let out a cry of surprise mixed with fear when she felt herself drawn back, into Darius' clutches.

"Ez!" She cried, distraught.  
The piltovian looked at her for a moment before running away.

"Sorry, babe, question of priority," He called over his shoulder.

"Ezreal," Lux shouted incredulously.  
But the adventurer had already disappeared, returning to the base to heal his scratches.

"Looks like your shining knight give more value to his life than yours," said a deep voice in the girl's ear.  
Lux shuddered involuntarily and it was not from the cold.

"What a disappointment it should be."  
She did not have time to think about it. A moment later, Darius freed her from his grasp before finishing her with a powerful strike of his axe. While the world dissolved into a gray mist around her, Lux could see the Noxian rush to the defenseless turret. A terrible collapsing sound reasoned, signaling the fall of the turret. Then the darkness took her.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you so much for your support. ^^  
Here's the chapter.  
Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 5:**

Quinn could see Valor describing large circles above her through the bare branches of the trees surrounding them. The eagle was watching around, searching for any sign of enemy presence. Looking down, her gaze fell on Garen who was waiting, leaning on his sword, the beginning of the match. He had not said a word since they had left their base. He seemed particularly concentrated, probably preparing himself for a ruthless battle against Darius. Quinn admired the young man's dedication and discipline, but could not say it was her cup of tea. Somehow, she could not help but find Garen too commanding and too strict towards others as well as himself. That was may be why Valor did not like him.

She found amazing, and a little scary, that her companion could show more tolerance toward a Noxian assassin than their own allies. Quinn knew Valor cordially hated Fiora, and she could not really blame him, he didn't like Garen and distrusted Shyvana, as if she would eat him like a mere chicken. However, the bird seemed to have no particular animosity against Talon whose behavior was far from friendly. It was probably because Talon was an enemy and they could not expect anything else from him. At least with him, they knew what to expect.

_"Wake up,"_ suddenly said her summoner's voice in her mind. _"The minions are already on their way."_  
Quinn suddenly realized that she was unnecessarily daydreaming and, during that time, the match had started without her. Cursing silently, the young woman rushed out of the protective halo of her team's turret and joined Garen who was already killing blue minions. As she began to shoot the little creatures, Quinn saw him frequently look around, probably expecting Darius coming at him at any moment.

Valor suddenly appeared from the sky to mark one of the minions, indicating its weaknesses to his partner, and Quinn hurried to finish it with a flight of well-placed bolt. That's when a familiar shadow appeared in front of her. Hearing Valor warning cry, Quinn threw herself to the ground, narrowly dodging the curved daggers thrown at her. She replied, firing a bolt toward the assassin, but he had already disappeared in the trees' shadow. A shot rang out into the Rift's silence and Garen uttered a cry of pain mixed with surprise. The bullet ricocheted off his armor and hit Quinn in the back. Sarah Fortune could not help a cheeky smile at their surprise. She blew on the barrel of her pistol to dispel the slight wisp of smoke that still escaped it, a flirtatious smile on her lips.

Garen looked around them, as if Darius would arise from the bushes to attack him, but there was no trace of the Noxian General around. He was nowhere on this lane. Garen understood that his strategy was already falling apart. The game had started for less than a minute!

Bravely gritting his teeth, Garen tightened his grip on his sword and took his momentum to race to the pirate girl while spinning like a top. Miss Fortune ran away on her high heels, while the Demacian mowed down everything in its path, cutting the minions like the blade of a crazy grinder. Quinn was running behind him, ending the few surviving foe, when she suddenly felt a presence behind her. Talon's sharp blade struck her in the calf, making her almost tripping. During the time it took her to regain her balance, the assassin plunged over her, his blade gleaming with an ominous bloody glow.

"Valor, to me!" Cried Quinn.  
The eagle appeared, screaming, all claws out. When Talon's blade bit her flesh, Quinn saw her companion fall on the assassin's face, distracting him long enough to allow her to roll out of his reach. She straightened herself, gritting her teeth, ignoring the pain that went down her right arm and aimed her crossbow at Talon before shooting. In a move that tinkled the blades adorning his cloak, the assassin rolled into the shadows under the trees, but the yelp that followed warned Quinn that she had hit her target.

The scout had not the time to wonder if she can return to the base to heal her wound or not. A new detonation reminded her that Garen was fighting against Miss Fortune. Being herself a ranged fighter, Quinn knew perfectly well that her teammate was at disadvantage. Garen was in need of a little help. Quinn leapt forward, whistling Valor who was still circling above the place where Talon had disappeared. She sprang to her teammate, leaving the minions kill each other, and joined Garen in time to see him holding his bleeding right shoulder with his left hand. The wound did not seem serious, but it let out an important stream of blood. Quinn did not understand how a single bullet could so easily pass through the Demancian General's strong armor. This was probably due to the spells governing the fighting on the Fields of Justice.

Quinn had just joined Garen when a hail of bullet suddenly began to rain down on them, inflicting small but painful wounds all over their body. Caught in the storm, Valor flew away with an indignant squeal, several feathers on his tail and wings damaged by the bullets. In response, Quinn jumped on the redhead, both for attack her and get out of her spell zone. She crashed into Miss Fortune before bouncing back with the agility of a panther, and raised her crossbow to shoot the pirate. The little scream that followed was enough to satisfy Quinn and to prevent the redhead to escape at full speed. Freed from the area of her Make it Rain spell, Garen rushed to Miss Fortune and passed Quinn using Judgment.

"Valor, what do you see up there?" Quinn asked the still fuming eagle.  
He looked down at the ground in time to see Talon slip out of the shadows and approach his mistress. With a shriek, he fell from the sky and struck the assassin, marking him. Quinn turned to see her opponent chasing her companion with a wave of his arms and aimed at him by reflex. It does not prevent the assassin to jump on her. His blade painfully pierced the young woman's side and she was spared only by her summoner's reflexes who propelled her away from the assassin with his Flash spell.

For a moment, they challenged each other and, with a sickly smile on the face, Talon turned away from her and went down the lane to the blue tower. It took a moment to Quinn's pain fogged mind to understand he was going to attack Garen from behind while he was fighting Miss Fortune. With a scream of indignation, Quinn rushed behind him.

His armor pierced by numerous small bleeding holes, Garen was losing, facing the redhead who was in no better shape. Talon leapt to Garen without warning, his blade drawing a long bleeding gash on his back. Quinn watched in horror as the young man put a knee on the ground, completely exhausted. Talon raised his weapon to finish the demacian, but at that moment, Garen, gathering his remaining strength, gave him a terrible blow.

"Demaciaaaaaaaaa!" he cried, while a giant blade impaled the assassin.  
Taking advantage of this moment of inattention, Miss Fortune pointed her two guns at him and fired several volleys of bullets with a crazy laugh. Quinn saw her teammate collapse between their two opponents. Talon turned to her with a wry smile:

"Too bad you can't protect your friends, kitten."  
Furious, Quinn clenched her fingers on her crossbow.

"At least I know what these words mean," she replied icily.  
Talon clenched his jaw, giving her a dark look.

Without a word, Talon gathered himself and jumped on Quinn. The young woman stepped back and had no alternative but to flee along the lane to return to her turret. Her health level was not at the top, she did not have a chance against two opponents. Talon immediately chased after her but Miss Fortune, obviously seeing no interest in following them, recalled to her base to heal her injuries.

As she ran, Quinn felt the bite of Talon daggers in her back and would probably had fell if, in a sudden burst of inspiration, her summoner did not use Heal to give her a little health and increase her moving speed.

_"He is all alone, finishes him,"_ she heard him scream in her mind.  
A glance over her shoulder and she saw he was right. A few distance from the turret, she turned to face Talon. A devious smile on his lips, he stood in front of her, relishing in advance of his little game.

"Tired of running, kitten?"  
She did not bother to respond. Raising her weapon, she pulled a bolt at him. He replied, launching a volley of daggers at her. Quinn rolled on the ground to dodge, but one of the blades pierced her shoulder. Ignoring the pain, she stood up and took supports on the ground to propel herself on the assassin. She slammed into his chest, unbalancing him for a moment.

"Valor!" She called.  
Understanding what was expected of him; the eagle swooped down on Talon and struck him with his wings and beak. Talon made a movement with his knife arm to shoo him away.

"Val", recalled Quinn.  
The bird pulled away immediately and Talon had only time to see the crossbow pointed at his heart. The next moment everything went blurry around him and he heard his summoner's voice report that he had been killed.

Quinn breathed, looking at Talon lifeless body of on frozen ground, a strange pain in her chest pounding like her heart. Passing a gloved hand on her sweating forehead, despite the cold, the young woman asked her summoner to recall her to the base in order to heal her wounds. The familiar blue glow enveloped her, and a moment later, she found herself at the purple fountain. She heaved a sigh of relief as she felt the fountain healing powers close her wounds.

Tranquility, however, was short-lived. As she closed her eyes to enjoy a moment of calm in the bustle of the match, a roar of rage sounded just inches from her.

"You abandoned Lux, brat?"  
Opening her eyes, Quinn saw Garen grab Ezreal by the collar of his jacket and lift him off the ground. Without really understanding what was going on, Quinn rushed out and put a hand on the Demacian general's forearm, in a soothing gesture.

"Garen!"

"This coward fled the field, leaving Lux alone against Darius," threw Garen while eying Ezreal.  
Quinn clapped a hand over her lips in amazement. If Demacians were unable to forgive anything, it was cowardice. And Garen had always been particularly protective of his younger sister.

"Darius was going berserk," replied Ezreal, which obviously did not understand what he did wrong. "One of us was going to die; I'd rather it wasn't me."  
With a roar of fury, Garen threw him to the ground. Quinn threw a glance over her shoulder at Lux. She had just reappeared and mutely witnessed the scene, pale and frozen, but fixing the piltovian with a hurt look in which anger and incomprehension could also be seen.

"Don't approach my sister ever again," Garen snarled.  
He then turned to the blonde.

"I'll go with you; I'm going to make this fucking Noxian pay for what he did to you."

"Darius did nothing wrong," Lux said tonelessly. "He only followed the fight's rules."  
She wondered for a moment why she felt the need to defend the Noxian but she spoke before she could stop herself. Darius had nothing to do in this; it was Ezreal who was unable to accept responsibility for his actions.

"Anyway," Garen snarled, glaring to the piltovian. "You're going with Quinn and if you leave her too, I guarantee you that the Council of Equity will hear about this."

"I have done nothing wrong," persisted the blond.  
Garen paid him no attention and rushed running to the bottom lane where Darius and Draven were assaulting their inner turret.

"Asshole," threw Ezreal, once Garen was far enough to not hear him.  
Quinn did not deign to interfere. Whistling Valor, she rushed to her own lane, without waiting to see if the piltovian was going to follow her or not.

*** * ****The sands of war**** * ***

The whole team stood at the center of the summoning circle, head down. Despite the lane change, Garen had failed to stop Darius and Draven's progression. The two brothers were too far ahead to be stopped. After a fierce but futile resistance, they had capitulated, attacked on all sides. No one dared to utter a word; while the summoners took care of deactivate the platform.

On the other side of the room, in the other summoning circle, the atmosphere was quite different. Draven laughed out loud while telling for the third or fourth time how he had _"saved his brother's ass"_ by shooting Garen and Lux at the same time with his Whirling Death, while Sarah Fortune and Syndra exchanged their impressions on the game. Talon's eyes did not leave Quinn as she stroked Valor's feathers with one hand while whispering in his ear some inaudible words. He had avenged himself by killing the Scout four times proving he was far ahead from her.

Darius was the first to exit the runes circle and walk down his team's platform, running a weary hand through his hair. He was exhausted though he tried not to show anything. After Garen's arrival on his lane, he had no more attacked Lux, leaving his brother to take care of her, focusing his attacks on his rival. This had not prevented him to watch the blonde's actions from the corner of his eyes. Although she may seem frail, fragile and superficial at first, he had to admit that she was actually a hardened fighter and that these spells of hers badly hurt. What a pity she was not a Noxian!

Both teams greeted each other, shaking hands. Darius threw a look full of contempt to Ezreal while he ruthlessly crushed his knuckles in his large hand, silently promising him thousand deaths for their next match. The blonde hurried away without a glance, once the Noxian let him go, leaving his place to Lux. The blonde firmly shook hands with the general, her playful smile back on her angelic face.

"Congratulations Darius that was a good match."  
Taken aback, the Noxian watched her as she hopped to his brother to congratulate him, missing Garen's disapproving grunt.

"Now that cursed game is finally over, we can think of the most important," Lux said as she walked toward the door, with Quinn and Garen. "Gragas's party!"  
An arm landed heavily on her shoulders.

"So you said, babe! I'll pick you up at seven-thirty, be ready and don't disappoint me, if you know what I mean."  
Lux froze and glared toward Ezreal.

"Oh, I'm sorry, babe," she replied icily. "But I will not go with you. I'll go with someone more trustfully. Question of priorities."  
With that, she grabbed Ezreal's hand and strongly pushed it away, emerging from his embrace. Frozen in amazement, the piltovian looked her walk out of the room, while Garen's booming laugh sounded in the hallway.

"What a pity," Darius said in an openly ironic voice; as he walked pass the blond. "You were such a cute couple."  
He exited the room, but not before launching a cruel smile toward Ezreal. See Luxana Crowngard rejecting that piltovian peacock's advances filled him with a strange sense of satisfaction.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for your support, I love you all. ^^  
Now time for the party, and I'm sorry, there will be no drugs, I fear XD  
But there will be Rock'n roll, alcohol, a little sex hidden in a corner aaaaaaaaaaand ...  
Talon/Quinn.  
Enjoy. ^^

* * *

**Chapter 6:**

At seven sharp, Quinn heard a knock at her door. With a weary sigh, she got up and left her diary; open on Talon's message, on her desk. She wondered what she should do. She had no desire to keep it or to mutilate her diary to get rid of it. The only thing she wanted was to be left in peace. Unfortunately, Lux had not seemed to understand that when she insisted on picking her up for the party. Quinn did not really want to go, but the blonde was probably right about one thing, it would change her mind. She was going to have some fun without thinking to Demacia, or to the next day's matches and even less to Talon.

Quinn opened the door to discover Lux, wearing a white dress with light blue piping under a thick coat fitted with a fur collar. A fur muff covered her hands. Behind the blonde stood Garen, wearing a brighter look than he had after their defeat. He had dropped his Demacian officer s uniform in favor of a black trousers and white shirt that made him look younger than he was.

"Come on," said Lux with her usual cheerful smile, leaping into the apartment. "We will be ..."  
She stopped when he saw Quinn and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to go like that? You seem to wear a potato sack."

"Well ... thanks!" Replied the falconer, looking down at her clothes.  
It was true that she had not made much effort. She took random clothes in her wardrobe, not even thinking if they fit together. She did not want to worry over that. However, Lux did not seem to share her opinion.

"Don't tell me you have nothing else to wear!"  
Without asking permission, the blonde opened wide the closet next to the bed and began to rummage through its contents.

After throwing several outfits on the bed, Lux finally found a blue dress, a pair of black stockings and matching underwear and shoved them into Quinn's arms, pushing her toward the bathroom.

"Come on, puts this on, you'll see, you're going to feel better."  
Quinn was far from that opinion when she came out of the bathroom ten minutes later. She was not used to wear this kind of clothes and felt uncomfortable as much as ridiculous. But Lux did not give her the luxury to complain.

"Great, it fit you really well," she cried seeing her friend. "A little makeup and you'll be ready."  
With no time to protest, Quinn was driven to her desk where the blonde sat her on the chair before opening the drawers to find a lonely tube of red lipstick and a little blush.

"We really need to go shopping together," remarked Lux putting her findings on the table beside her.  
Quinn did not dare to point out that the dress and make-up Lux had found were the result of their last day of shopping together, let alone admit that she probably would not have bought them if she had been alone.

Finally, the trio left the Demacian area of the Institute over twenty minutes late. Before leaving, Quinn had opened one of her windows for Valor, if he wanted to come in and out and had said goodbye to him advising him not to come home too late. The eagle had returned her gaze with a little purr that seemed to say _"speak for yourself"._ Quinn did not feel particularly comfortable in her dress, deprived of Valor and her crossbow, but Lux and Garen's company was enough to reassure her. She only had to stay with them and no one would bother her ... and hope that Talon was not present.

The tavern Gragas held, when he was not throwing barrels on the Fields of Justice, was located in the small town that had developed near the Institute. Some houses, various shops, three inns, open for the curious who came to witness the public matches, and two taverns. That was about all there was to see. But it was enough. The village was a walking goal for the Champions, tired of living between the walls of the Institute. It even happened that some Champions spend a few days in one of the inn before returning to their usual quarters.

Although it was still early, the party had already started when the three Demacian opened the door. The tavern itself was nothing different from the others, if that was its size and attendance that were unusual. It was not uncommon to see a group of Champion spending a few hours drinking and having fun, which usually attracted a lot of curious from all over the region. But tonight was different. Gragas' party was reserved for the Champions and them alone. Several tables were already occupied while on the improvised stage at the back of the room, Karthus warmed his voice while his musicians were preparing their instruments.

Lux rushed on the first free table she saw, causing Garen and Quinn to follow behind her. As they were sitting, a waitress in bunny outfit came to take their order, informing them that the concert would not begin until at least half an hour. She walked away to another table. Lux vanished for a moment to greet those of hers friends who were already here. Quinn looked her, wondering how many friends the blonde had within the Institute. Probably a lot. She must say Lux was lovely, smiling and nice with everyone, even with the Noxian. It was probably helping. Quinn did not feel well with anyone but Valor.

Lux came back after ten minutes, a large smile on her lips. Seconds later, another waitress brought them their order. The blonde looked up to thank her and froze instantly, looking at her with large round eyes.

"Riven?"  
The other two looked up to see the Exile, tray in hand, dressed in a rabbit outfit, like all the other waitresses.

"What are you doing here?" Lux asked, confused.

"Everyone is not lucky enough to have the support of their native city," replied the young woman, in a tone colder than necessary.  
She glared toward a table a little further into the room, where Draven laughed while his brother seemed rather bored, and went away without another word.

"An evening without Noxian, it would have been too good," Garen sighed.

"You said so," a voice whispered in his ear.  
He instinctively backed away and turned his head to see Katarina leaning over him, her long hair falling over her shoulders like a bloody veil. She gave him a sarcastic smile and Garen blushed in spite of himself, which seemed to satisfy the redhead.

"I bet I make you regret those words before the end of the party", she added, taking place at the table next to the Demacian's.  
Garen just grunted something under his breath.

Feeling a gaze on her, Quinn turned her head and crossed Talon's hazel eyes. He was sitting between the Du Couteau sisters, too close to her. She turned away, trying not to shiver and suddenly found very interesting contemplating Yorick thoughtfully strumming his guitar.

"It was a good match this morning, don't you think, kitten?" Talon threw in a mocking voice.  
Quinn did not deign to respond, but she saw Lux turn to the assassin with stern look that could have said _"Beware, I'm keeping an eye on you"_. Talon's only reaction was an openly mocking sneer. Quinn chose to act as if she hadn't seen or heard anything and plunged her face into the huge mug in front of her to drink a long sip of her beer. She rarely drank, but she made exception for this kind of party. And if alcohol could help her to ignore Talon, she was not going to deny it.

The room filled gradually. Quinn was surprised to see some Champion she would never have thought to see at that kind of party, like Vladimir and Zac. At a table near the bar, Twisted Fate was even ruining Ryze, Gangplank and Lucian in a poker game that had probably nothing loyal. The three Du Couteau were joined by Zyra, who seemed on good terms with Cassiopeia. On the other side of the room Karma, Irelia, Akali and Yi were siting, calmly talking, throwing suspicious glances towards Draven and Darius, which Vladimir had joined. Quinn saw him drink with Draven, holding a small glass containing a red liquid which she did not want to know the nature of. Darius looked away, as if he was looking for a way to escape his two companions' insipid chatter.

A loud noise drew the girl of her observation and she turned her head to see Jarvan collapse on the chair by Garen, while Shyvana was sitting between Lux and the Prince. Quinn did not know if the half-dragon had taken this place because it was the last free or if she had chosen it to keep the Du Couteau in her field of vision. She suddenly realized that while Shyvana was watching the assassins, Garen was free to keep an eye on Darius and Draven. Even during those parties, the bloody war between Demacia and Noxus did not seem to subside. It was depressing.

Around eight, when the room was nearly full, the lights went out at once, causing a murmur of surprise and excitement among the partiers. The only lights to stay lit were those which overlooked the bar, behind which Gragas was busy, and three spots on the stage. Then there was a small explosion and a cloud of smoke rose above the stage while a deafening sound was heard. Garen clapped his hands over his ears, cursing Lux having managed to drag him here, while his sister began to hop on her chair applauding the musicians who were appearing in the veil of the smoke. The music started immediately, deafening, yet Karthus' voice was heard without difficulty. Quinn saw from the corner of her eyes Garen tear small pieces of his paper towel and stuff them into his ears to reduce the noise. It made her smile.

The concert lasted a little over an hour. One hour of unspeakable torture for Garen who let out a long sigh of relief when the music stopped and the musicians began to put away their instruments. However, it seemed he was the only one to welcome the end of the concert with satisfaction, many voices were heard in the room, cheering for the musicians and claiming other songs. To Garen's relief, however, they simply thanked the audience before leaving the stage and sit in the room.

The atmosphere was joyful and explosive. Partygoers were laughing and joyfully chatting, some going from table to table, calling to one another across the room, drinking, eating and relaxing, forgetting the matches and the League for a few hours. Alcohol flowed freely; Gragas offered everyone a tour of his famous Icewine at the end of the concert and many mugs generously filled with beer went back and forth between the bar and the different tables. Many Champions present already appeared in a cheerfully drunk state. The food was not forgotten and heavy dishes loaded with bread and cheese, meat and potatoes, sausages and beans, accompanied every tray.

In the corner, the poker game resumed, and the pleased smile on Twisted Fate's lip showed it turned in his favor. A little further, Braum had engaged in a hard but friendly arm wrestling with Tryndamere, under Ashe's half amused half disapproving look. The frost archer seemed by far the most sober of the three. Persistent rumors in the Institute's halls claimed that the young queen would soon give an heir to the Freljord's crown. It was hard to believe seeing her narrow waist, but if it turns out that she was actually pregnant, zero doubts Sejuani and Lissandra were not going to take it too well.

Garen had withdrawn his improvised earplugs and was quietly chatting with his friends when a popcorn rain suddenly fell on his shoulders. Surprised at first, he glanced sharply around him but saw no one who seemed interested in their table.

"It is already turning to drinking session," he commented, trying to remove the sticky gains from his hair. "We should go back to the Institute".

"It just started," protested Lux.  
With a grunt, Garen got up to clean the mess and get rid the popcorn from his hair. He glared toward the Blood Brothers' table where Draven laughed like a madman looking at him as he passed. It did not improve his mood.

During Garen's short absence, things really got out of hand. Several other tables were victim of the same attack, and alcohol and excitement helping, tension rose rapidly to the point of no return. Protests were heard throughout the room, accusations rang out from all sides, and some threats were launched. Not far away, Lux suddenly saw Tryndamere grasping Olaf by his shirt, seeming to want a fight. She jumped up and rushed toward them.

"Please, calm down," she implored. "We all came to have fun."  
The two Nordic men looked at each other and the barbarian king let the Berserker go with a disdainful snort. Lux smiled at him, noticing Ashe's hand resting on her husband's arm. She thanked the archer with a nod when Olaf suddenly pushed her with a violent shove.

"Mind you own business, woman," he threw in a venomous voice.  
Lux gasped and suddenly found herself between solid arms, half sitting on muscular male thighs. Raising a bewildered look, her blue eyes met gray green ones.

"Darius ... I'm sorry!"  
He seemed as surprised as her.

"There's no harm."  
He helped her get back on her feet when a roar of rage covered the hullabaloo of the room.

"Don't touch my sister, filthy Noxian."  
Before Darius and Lux could understand, a strong fist fell on Noxian General's face, throwing him against the table where the poker game was held, shattering it in his fall.

"Garen," cried Lux, angrily. "He did nothing wrong."  
He pushed her behind him without listening her. Darius stood up, wiping the blood that flowed from his split lip with the back of his hand. Blood also flowed from a gash above his right eye.

"Crowngard," he growled with a murderous look.  
Garen raised his fists, but not fast enough to prevent the Noxian to jump on him and administer him a right that could have knocked a horse. It was Garen's turn to waltz into a table, the one where Quinn, Jarvan and Shyvana still sat.

It was like a signal for the brawl to begin.

Tryndamere grabbed Olaf again and pinned him against a wall while Braum caught Ashe to hide her safely behind the bar. Jarvan jumped up to rescue his best friend, but Draven jumped on him to protect his brother and both rolled on the floor. Shyvana rose to help the prince but a serpent's tail flew between her legs, making her stumble. In her fall, she knocked a passing Riven's tray spilling the mugs on Quinn.

"No way!" she growled, "It always ends like this."  
She rose in the uproar now ravaging the tavern. Mugs flew in every direction, food lined the walls, fragments of chairs and tables were used as weapon, Gragas had the wisdom to ban weapons from his establishment. Everyone was fighting for one reason or another, sometimes without a reason, in a brawl like Quinn had never seen before. She had witnessed drunken brawls in taverns before but nothing that looked like that.

Dripping with beer and food, Quinn made her way through the battlefield to the toilet but when she opened the door, she saw Arhi and Wukong busy with something other than war. Embarrassed, she closed the door; they did not even notice her presence.

"What a lovely color," a voice whispered in her ear. "Don't tell me you've never seen this kind of activity before".  
She shot an annoyed glance at Talon.

"Unlike someone, I'm not interested in spying my fellow Champions."  
A sarcastic smile appeared on the assassin's lips.

"Don't tell me you're still a virgin."

"I don't see how that concerns you."  
Talon seemed particularly amused by the turn of the conversation.

"That's what I thought," he quipped.  
Quinn turned a burning glance of hatred and contained anger to him.

"What," she snapped, "you think nobody want me, right? You're wrong; it's me who don't want anyone. So leave me alone!"  
With that, she turned with as much dignity she could in her wet and shapeless dress, beer and food dripping from her hair, trying to hide that stupid pain beating in her chest. She had not walked three steps when she was suddenly seized by the waist and pressed against a wall. Barely a second later, a mug shattered just above them, raining a shower of broken glass and beer on Talon who had covered her with his body. He squeezed her harder against him when Malphite hit the wall near them and collapsed along the wall inadvertently bombarding them with small rocks.

"It's hell in there", growled Talon, indifferent to the blood beading from various small cuts on his face. "Time to go."  
He ran a hand under Quinn's knees and effortlessly lifted her, stepping over Malphite and jumping from the first open window, leaving the others to fight each other. The only thing Quinn thought at that time was moving her arms around the assassin's shoulders and burying her face in the crook of his neck.


	7. Chapter 7

Hello, new chapter here! XD  
I'm amazed by your great review, I'm glad you like the story. It's a little hard for me to translate it, but you're worth the trouble.  
Thank you so much.  
With this on, things are about to begin. XD

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

Once reaching the village limits, Talon put Quinn down on the road returning to the institute. The young woman, embarrassed and numb with the cold, closed her arms over her chest in a vain attempt to warm herself up. Part of her regretted Talon's heat but she would rather die on the spot than admit it out loud. The assassin silently looked at her shivering form as she stumbled on the loose stones of the road. Rolling his eyes, he unfastened the cloak he was wearing and dropped it on the Scout's head.

"Here, put this on."  
Quinn struggled for a moment to get her head out of the garment, and then looked Talon walk away in silence, tightening the cloak against her. She really did not understand what the assassin might have on his mind. Suspicious, she followed him clumsily, unaccustomed to her high-heeled shoes.

"Why did you do that?" She asked after a short silence.  
He gave her a glance over his shoulder.

"Earlier in the tavern, why did you protect me?"  
He shrugged and Quinn thought for a moment he would not answer.

"I did it without thinking," was all he deigned to say.  
Quinn wondered what he meant, but asked no further questions.

She did not know what to conclude. Until then, she thought the assassin was lashing at her because she was a threat to him, and he saw in their rivalry a kind of game where the goal was to determine who was the best. She thought he was just trying to mark his territory, devaluing her to prove he was better than her; she was nothing but a peasant without talent who had reached her position simply because she had found a rare eagle by chance. But now she did not know anymore. She felt confused and too tired to think about it.

They reached the giant doors of the Institute of War in a heavy silence. Several armed guards were stationed outside the massive bronze doors, watching them approaching with disapproving frown. The two champions did not pay them attention, they had every right to come and go as they please as long as they did not cause any harm. However, when they crossed the door, a squad of heavily armed soldiers passed them in the other direction, heading towards the village, on a run.

"Looks like we left just in time," Talon remarked.  
Quinn did not answer, watching the soldiers quickly walking away, worried for her friends who stayed behind. They might be Champions but the High Council of Equity did not easily forgive excesses like the one taking place right now in Gragas' tavern. Some were going to have a rude awakening.

The two Champions reached the great hall around which the Institute was organized. The different city-states represented in the League had their living quarter in the three floors of four wings surrounding the lobby. After walking up the massive marble staircase, Quinn had to turn to the right hall to go back to her apartment while Talon must to turn to the left hall to regain his. When it was time to go her way, Quinn hesitated, not knowing if she should thank Talon or go without a word. He gave her a sharp look, as if challenging her. She suddenly felt heat rise to her cheeks and was glad the corridors were so dark; the assassin would not notice her discomfort. Finally, she just handed him his cloak.

"Thank you," she said, not daring to look at him.  
He silently took the clothing, without taking his eyes off her. Quinn rocked from one foot to the other before throwing a shy goodbye. Talon watched her walk away in silence, before looking down at his cloak from which arose the young woman's delicate scent.

After walking a few meters on her uncomfortable heels, Quinn paused to remove her shoes. When she reached her apartment, a few minutes later, she slammed the door and put her back against it, like she was afraid that Talon had followed her and could force it open. Valor, perched on the headboard asleep, looked up and gave her a surprised look.

"You don't know what happened, Val," Quinn said while locking the door. "The concert was really great, but I think Garen did not really like it ... But after that, the party turned into a brawl. Riven spilled beer on me and Talon protected me from a shattering mug and Malphite's fall."  
Valor gave a little a purr.

"Yes, you heard right."  
Sighing, the young woman went to her bathroom where she got rid of her wet and sticky dress while running a bath. Valor fluttered into the room and landed on top of a closet. It did not bother Quinn. It was not as if the bird was there to ogle her body. As she rubbed her skin vigorously to get rid of the unpleasant smell of beer, she told Valor the evening's events. The eagle listened quietly; letting out a squeak from time to time, like to show he was paying attention to what she said.

Once her skin and her hair got rid of the stench of alcohol, Quinn got out of the tub and wiped her body before putting on her short nightgown. She quickly gave her hair a combing in an attempt to order her mop before finally leaving the bathroom. She went to close the window that was still open before heading to the bed

"I'm exhausted, Val, it's been a bad day."  
She thought about Talon. He had protected her and lent her his cloak to keep her warm. In what category could that fit? Was it a selfless act? It would be surprising from a Noxian; they rarely did anything without ulterior motives. Was this a new game, a new way to torment her? She did not know and for the moment she did not want to know. She shook the thought off her mind and slipped between the sheets, pulling the covers over her to protect herself from the cold.

"Good night, Val."  
Valor perched in his usual place on the headboard and replied with a soft whistle. Quinn reached over to turn off the light and searched for a comfortable position on the mattress. She fell asleep almost immediately.

A few minutes later, while Quinn was already in a deep sleep, a figure stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room and walked to the bed. Valor, who had buried his head under his wing, straightened up and stared at the intruder with a piercing gaze. The man came forward within a moonlight glow streaming from the windows, revealing an angular face and deep hazel eyes fixed on the sleeping young woman.

"A bad day, huh?"  
He looked up at Valor.

"I guess it's my fault."  
The eagle answered with a barely audible hiss.

"You're probably right."  
He reached out and stroked Valor's blue feather. The bird let him do without any resistance; he even raised his head toward the man's hand.

"It might make you laugh seeing me like that, right?"  
A sigh was heard and the hand left the blue feathers to wander on the comforter. The man approached and looked down at the sleeping young woman. He watched her for a moment, admiring her relaxed face, her cheekbones, her parted lips, and her hair softly resting on her forehead. He reached a hand toward her and, curiously, Valor does not react. His for once ungloved fingers caressed the sleeping girl, pushing purple stray locks out of her closed eyes. Disturbed, she pursued her lips and slightly shifted in her sleep. It seemed to be a clue for the young man that it was enough. He slowly stepped back and walked away from the bed.

"I'm a fool, right?!"  
Valor approved with a low purr and received a pat as a response. Without another word, the man walked to the door, pausing in front of the desk on which the diary was still wide open to a page that was occupied by a lonely line written in small sharp handwriting . A satisfied smile on his lips, he melted into the shadows and left the room.

*** * ****The sands of war**** * ***

Vessaria Kolminye sat, upright and stiff, on the High Councilor's seat throwing an icy glare at the Champions sitting in front of her. To her left, Meirin Windhelm, Noxus High Summoner, sat with her chin on her hand, containing her disappointment, while on the High Councilor's right, Amaya Sunbringer, Demacia High Summoner, was gently massaging her temples to try to smooth her headache. All three silently listened to Gragas relating the events that took place in his tavern the night before.

The High Council of Equity was called to decide punishments for the Champions involved in the brawl and it seemed not at all pleased by the situation. Although strictly prohibited on the Institute's ground and in the nearby village, fights would sometimes break out between Champions, mainly between Demacia and Noxus representatives, but this time it was not a simple little corridor brawl that the Council had to judge. The extent of the fight, the number of Champions involved and the damage done to the tavern made the case unusual and delicate. The three summoners would certainly have to rack their brains to find a suitable punishment.

Facing them sat the guilty, among them Darius, his brother Draven, Garen and Luxanna Crowngard, siting in the first row, only separated by the aisle in the center of the room, but also Tryndamere, Twisted Fate, his nemesis: Graves , Akali, Yi and even that poor Tristana who had been involved against her will. Many others were listening, more or less shameful, the tale of events. Lower-ranking summoners attended the audition, sitting in the box provided for them along the walls on each side of the room. Once Gragas had finished speaking, Vessaria Kolminye stared at the first raw of Champions, clearly annoyed.

"Did someone have something to add?" She asked dryly.

"It's his fault," threw Garen, hypocritically, pointing to Darius.  
The Noxian glared at him.

"It was you who jumped on me for no reason, Crowngard," he groaned.  
Both still bore the marks of their fight in the tavern: a monumental black eye and a broken nose for Garen, three stitches above his right eye, a split lip and a broken wrist for his rival. At Garen's discharge, he was not responsible for the fracture; Darius inflicted it to himself by smashing the table below which Teemo were hiding. The yordle took advantage of the confusion to make a blowgun with a straw and had used it to fire stink bombs on the fighters. God only knew where he had found them.

"You were groping my sister," Garen roared, jumping on his feet, apparently ready to resume their fight where it was left.

"For the last time," yelled Lux, fuming, "it was an accident. Olaf pushed me on Darius."

"That's true," reluctantly admitted the Berzerker, "I pushed the girl, but I hadn't looked where."  
Garen turned on his seat to send him a glare.

"**They** are the real culprits in that mess," Darius said, pointing to the two Champions sitting in front of the first row, on chairs set in the middle of the aisle.  
Teemo shrank on his seatr, having at least the decency to seem shameful. Ezrea, on the other hand, did not seem to regret anything. Kolminye turned to them.

"What have you to say for your defense?"

"I meant no harm", said Teemo. "I wanted some fun. That's all."  
The High Councilor sighed in annoyance.

"What about you?"  
Ezreal stared insolently at her.

"I have not done anything wrong!"

"Liar," roared Garen. "You were caught red-handed, throwing this popcorn shit on everyone. It was you who started the damn fight."  
The blond turned his head to send the Demacian general an arrogant smile.

"Oh? I thought it was him by tainting your precious little sister!"  
He nodded to Darius. The two generals threw him the same dark look, promise of upcoming torment.

"Enough!" boomed Jarvan's voice. "It's humiliating enough to be there, let's get over with that."  
He was among the few Champions experiencing the shame of their lives.

"Ezreal wanted to spoil the party because I refused to accompany him," accused Lux.  
A long silence followed before the blond, suddenly finding something to answer, bursts out laughing.

"Come on, babe, don't think so high of yourself. There are lots of girls better than you who are waiting a single wave from me to fall into my arms."  
Garen grunted in fury, while all colors left his sister's angelic face. The rude comment had visibly hurt her.

" Then, where are they?" Darius taunted with an evil smile. "Why don't you bring one or two to the party, instead of slipping into the tavern by the kitchen door?"  
It reduced the piltovian to silence. Darius turned to the High Councilor.

"I wouldn't be surprise if Luxanna Crowngard was right" he threw.

"Yeah," approved Garen who seemed to have difficulty admitting sharing his rival's opinion.  
Vessaria Kolmirye sighed again.

The Council listened to what the Champions involved had to say before dismissing them, ensuring that they would be quickly made aware of their decision. Summoners present were allowed to stay for the deliberation. Once the room was empty, Kolminye put her head in her hands.

"I can't believe it."

"Seem like any of us can," Meirin replied, sighing.  
She glanced at Amaya who do not bother to deny it, her face speaking for her. She had a vague wave with her hand like she was trying to chase a fly, and said:

"How will we sort out that mess? It's not possible to know for sure who did what. We can't just randomly hand out the usual punishment, hoping to find the right culprits."  
Vessaria agreed with a nod.

"I think we should start by deducting all involved Champions' bonus to repay Gragas," proposed Meirin. "No problem with that, they all broke something during that damn fight."

"Wait for the estimate of the damage then we will take part on their bonus," agreed Vessaria. "I think we may suspend Ezreal and Teemo for some matches. Everyone seems to agree that they are responsible for this mess."

"Suspension without bonus," Meirin added.  
The other two agreed.

"I've had enough," suddenly said Vessaria in an annoyed voice. "The purpose of this organization is to bring peace to Valoran, but how can we do it if our Champions spend their time hating and fighting each other in the hallways. What an example it must be for the people!"  
Amaya ran a slender hand through her long blond hair.

"Garen was always quick to protect his sister," she said.

"And hating Noxian," added Meirin without animosity.  
It brought a smile on her Demacian counterpart's face.

"Not all Noxian, I swear."  
The brunette raised an eyebrow.

"I think a certain redhead really interests him."

"Their love life does not interest us," said Kolinye, offended.

"Quite the contrary," threw Meirin straightening on her chair. "It could serve us."  
The other two looked at her blankly.

"What if we push them to get to better know each other?"  
There was a moment of silence and then Vessaria seemed to see what the Noxian meant.

"I see," she said with a smile. "As long as they are Champions and they are at the Institute, we have authority over them. They have to do what we ask them to. And we can ask them to form teams that suit us and force them to see each other in an out the Field of Justice."  
She remained silent for a moment before continuing, immersed in her thoughts.

"The Solstice is coming soon. We can organize an event that will serve as a cover for this reconciliation attempt."  
She nodded, like she was convincing herself it was a good idea.

"Yes, it deserves a try."

"And how will you form their teams?" Interjected a summoner, in the back of the room.

"You will help us," said the High Councilor raising from her seat. "Summoners know what is going on in their Champions' mind; they are able to feel even the most hidden of feelings. We can use it at our advantage, to form the most suitable teams, especially for Demacia and Noxus Champions. What do you think about that?"

"We all have sworn never using what we can see in the Champions' minds against them," protested another summoner from the room.

"True," admitted Vessaria. "But we do not want to hurt or blackmail them. We just want them to learn about each other and, maybe develop some sort of bonds. Sometimes a sacrifice is necessary for the good of the greatest number, do not you think?"  
The Summoner who had spoken seemed to think for a moment before shaking his head, clearly taken aback by both the idea and the proposed argument. Amaya thoughtfully stroke her lips with her fingers.

"It's hard to say. This is double-edged. Either they will accept and form some sort of alliance, but I do not think they will, or they will spend their time hating each other and causing more disaster like the one we had last night. I think we will have a rough time."

"As usual!" Meirin said with a predatory smile.  
Vessaria Kolminye gave her a reproving look before questioning her. The Noxian brunette became suddenly serious and took the time to think before answering honestly:

"I think there will be no peace between Demacia and Noxus as long as one of them doesn't collapse before the other, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. If it can save Valoran a little time, then so be it. It will be less family torn apart or unnecessarily traumatized or maimed young peoples".

"And less dead!" interjected another summoner from the room.  
Meirin looked up at him and gave him an indulgent smile, the kind of smile reserved to a spoiled brat. She knew this man, Nao Pang Shin, Ionia High Summoner and one of Noxus' fiercest opponents. Lacking the same wisdom as some of his Champions, he spent his time defying Meirin and launching unkind remarks. He had never come to term with the war between Noxus and his island. Meirin simply ignored him, like a bug not deserving her attention.

"The dead are dead, Nao, they no longer suffer," she replied in a sweet voice. "It's living that we should take care of."  
It had the merit to silence the Ionian.

"Well," concluded Kolminye. "We have our little Solstice Festival to organize".  
The smile on her lips indicated that she had found a new hope. Unfortunately for the unsuspecting Champions, it also indicated that they would soon have a very rough time.

* * *

I think you already guess what was was coming at our favourite Champions. XD


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you so much for your reviews, I'm so happy you like the story.

* * *

**Chapter 8:**

The news had gone around the Institute faster than the most salacious rumors. The Solstice was coming soon and the High Council saved a special event for the Champions. It happened from time to time, especially for most of Valoran's popular holidays. It was always a good opportunity to experiment new ways of fighting, new rules and new capabilities. Most Champions liked these initiatives. Since the information was made official, a little less than a week earlier, the Festival, as everyone called it, was the main topic of conversation all around the place. Wherever Quinn went, she heard about it. Some Champion were more eager than other, such as Lulu or Lux, while on the other hand, some did not seem to note the restless atmosphere, or did not want to pay attention.

Quinn was waiting to see what that Festival would be before judging. She was not particularly excited or really anxious. They had no choice, anyway. Anything that Festival might be, they should all participate, happy or not. All she had to do was make sure to honor Demacia, especially after the fiasco Gragas' party was. Jarvan and Garen had both got a three games suspension and a consequent fine, like most of the involved Champions, and Swain was happy to jump on this opportunity to mock Demacia and its Champions, Jarvan in particular. Darius and Draven had also been punished but, curiously, the raven had not made the slightest allusion to that. They all had a close call, though, because at one point it was question of requiring the culprits to clean the tavern and help with the repairs. Quinn could not imagine Jarvan armed with a broom or Garen wearing a pink apron, even though it made Lux laugh so hard she fell from her chair.

The dining hall was almost full when Quinn came in. Valor immediately flew off to land on his usual spot near the Demacian table. The scout did not try to find a familiar face in the crowd and walked straight to the buffet. Everywhere, Champions were speaking of the upcoming Festival but she did not want to hear about that yet. She had a strange dream that had left her dejected.

She vaguely remembered she was walking in the forest with Caleb, her deceased brother. They were fifteen; it was a joyous time when they roamed the countryside surrounding the family farm, pretending to live great adventures. It went well; the forest was shining with the light green of young leaves and the discreet colors of early small flowers. A paradise! Quinn drank to a clear stream to quench her thirst and catch her breath after their run among the trees. When she sat up, however, Caleb was gone. She had turned in all directions calling him but no voice answered, only a little plaintive squeal. Then she noticed a figure among the trees that suddenly were darker and more hostile. She darted after it, calling her brother. But the figure was faster than her and she could not catch it. The faster she ran the faster the silhouette got away. At one point, it had taken the blurred shape of a bird to rise rapidly among the trees and Quinn had momentarily lost its track. After searching around for a while, she had found it. Her brother was waiting, leaning against a mossy, knobbled trunk. She darted toward him and held him against her, asking him to never make her experiment such fear again. He did not respond. She, then, stepped aside to look at him, but it was not Caleb. It was a young man in a purple robe, with an angular face and hazel eyes that stared at her with an almost unhealthy intensity.

She had woken with a start, screaming her brother's name and, for a moment, she thought she was seeing these hazel eyes that haunted her looking at her from a dark corner of her room. But the time to turn searching for her bedside lamp's switch, they had vanished and she found nothing. Valor, awakened by the racket, had made this strange soft whistle he produced whenever he wanted to reassure her. Quinn had laid back in her bed, but could not get back to sleep, disturbed by the almost real details of her dream.

Trying not to think about it, and especially not to wonder why Talon had taken Caleb's place, in her arms, Quinn walked around the buffet looking at the dishes with sullen eyes. She was not very hungry. But she had even less desire to stay in her room trying to find meaning in a dream that had none. She, therefore, came to the dining room; more out of habit and to keep her mind busy than for lunch. She should have stayed in her room!

While she was walking around the buffet for the second or third time, unable to decide what she wanted to eat or if she wanted to eat, her eyes slipped involuntarily towards the Noxian table. Talon was sitting there, between Katarina and Cassiopeia as always. Quinn found herself noticing that he seemed not particularly well, like he had barely slept, too. But she had no time to wonder what had happened to him. As she walked, looking away, she suddenly felt a presence just to her right, but far too late. The shock shook her hard and she nearly lost her balance; it was a miracle if her tray did not fell on the ground. An indignant shoot suddenly covered the conversations.

"Can't you look where you walk, you idiot!"  
Fiora, dripping with coffee, her red dress dirty with tea, jam and butter, a toast a glued on her left shoulder. That was what Quinn saw when she turned her head. The duelist stared at her with the look of an angry harpy. Quinn wanted to argue that she, either, was not careful to where she was walking, if she could not avoid the collision, but she had no time to do so.

"I bet you did it on purpose, dumb girl, just to make me ridicule in front of everyone."  
The whole room was looking at them, now. Some people had even stood up to see better what was going on. At the nearest table, the merry band of the yordles seemed almost chocking with laughter.

"It comes out of its muddy countryside, soaked with manure and it takes itself for Elite, but it does not know anything, anything at all," continued the duelist. "You know how much a dress like that could cost, you know?"

"No," Quinn admitted, undaunted." I don't know and I don't care. It fits you like a tutu for Valor, anyway."

"You filthy uneducated peasant!" growled Fiora. "Who do you think you are? You're just good at scouring the manure."  
Quinn threw a glance around her, embarrassed to be the center of attention. Her golden eyes briefly met Talon hazel ones. The frowning assassin seemed in a very bad mood. Valor uttered an angered cry and Quinn looked up in time to see him drop dung on the fallen noble dyed hair. The yordles roared with laughter. Teemo even slipped from his seat and rolled on the ground, holding his sides. Mocking giggles rang out around the room.

"Val!" she cried indignantly.  
But her reprimand was covered by the Duelist's angry howl.

"You dumbass, your dirty bird and you have nothing to do here," she roared. "You are not even from Demacia. You're nothing but a disgrace to us."

"Enough," boomed a loud disapproving voice.  
In a few furious strides, Jarvan joined the two young women. The anger that emanated from him was enough to silence the harpy. Quinn stammered excuses that died on her lips in front of the prince's death glare.

"The only disgrace to Demacia, here, is you, Fiora Laurent," he threw in an icy voice, trying to contain his anger as best as he could. "What are you? A spoiled brat, to give such a show in front of everyone for a mere dress? Or an idiot for not having understood it was an accident?"  
The duelist seemed to shrink under the prince's anger. He never talked like that to the other Demacian Champions, only when he was really furious and disappointed. It was never a good thing.

"I am willing to forget the complaint I receive every day about your behavior towards the other Champions, but humiliating Demacia and its representatives in public, I can't forgive that. I want excuses, now."  
Fiora shot a venomous glance at Quinn but did not utter a word.

"Very well," Jarvan whispered darkly. "Out of my sight, now, and do not bother showing yourself to me as long as you didn't apologize to Quinn, Miss Laurent."  
He turned abruptly and went back to his seat without looking back. Quinn, not knowing what to do, took a few steps back and called Valor. The eagle landed on her arm and immediately rubbed his head against his mistress' cheek, like he wanted to comfort her. Fiora rudely shoved them, before heading to the door, trying not to run. From the corner of her eyes, Quinn thought she saw tears running down the Duelist's cheeks, but curiously, she did not care. Fiora had it coming; it was time someone put her back in line.

Quinn wondered if she could go to the Demacian table or if it was better for her to leave as well. She looked at what was left on her plate: half a cup of tea, the remaining flooding two buns she had laid on her tray, some eggs that had fallen from her plate and a miraculously intact yoghourt cup. She cast a glance at the mess spread out on the floor and sighed. What a bad morning! She really did not need that!

She sat next to Lux who seemed less cheerful than usual. With a furious Jarvan sitting in front of her, she did not have much choice. Silent and livid, the prince was stabbing a pear that had done nothing to him. Quinn wondered who the victim of this vengeful action was: Fiora or Swain, who was more arrogant and insolent than ever? As long as it was not her, it was not important.

"I'm sorry," she said softly without daring to look at Jarvan. "I shouldn't have challenged her."

"Let her be," Garen said with a shrug. "She is the one thinking being more important than she really is. She called me an uncouth lump, yesterday, and Lux a simpleton on the edge of handicap!"  
He had an openly contemptuous sneer.

"I usually don't complaint about my fellow Champions, but it is certainly not with that attitude she'll rehabilitate her name!"

"I don't think many people can stand her," said Lux, "and she hopes getting Jarvan? That's just … well!"  
She gave a theatrical shudder. This rumor was not unknown to Quinn. She had already heard about the interested attention the duelist wore toward the prince.

"She gets ideas," groaned Jarvan, stabbing the pear one last time. "She doesn't interest me in the slightest. And even if she would interest me, nobody would let me marry the heir of a fallen and disgraced family."  
With that, he stood up and left the room, an almost terrifying look on his face.

"Poor Fiora," Lux sighed. "I almost pity her."

"Almost being the key word here," underlined her brother.  
Quinn said nothing; she looked at her tray, trying not to thinks of her dream. When she looked up, she saw that the Du Couteau siblings had left the Noxian table; Darius was immersed in reading a sheaf of papers, probably a rapport, while Swain, leaning toward him, seemed to whispering something about his reading. Leblanc was looking at the room with a bored look on her face and Draven brandished what Quinn succeeded, not without difficulty, to identify as one of Malzahar's small Voidling. She wondered what the creature was doing there. The Prophet rarely came to the refectory, like he did not feel them worthy of his presence, which was probably the truth.

Usually, like Malzahar, some Champions rarely showed among them. It was not surprising to never see the Champions imprisoned in the bowels of the Institute such as the Void monsters, Nocturne, Fiddelstick, Brand, Sion, and some other. But some of the Champions free to roam the Institute and its neighborhood as they please do not come either. Like Rengar, who preferred to hunt alone, or Nidalee, who certainly preferred throwing her damn spear against some poor innocent prey, or Urgot who was hardly seen anywhere except on guard in Noxus living area, and to tell the truth, many people were grateful for that, the sight of that monster and its stench were enough to ruin everyone appetite; or Azir, Xerath or Tresh, to name a few.

From the corner of her eyes, Quinn saw the little Voidling escape Draven. It fell on the table, shoving cups and plates around him, and ran in the opposite direction zigzagging like a spider that someone had tried to crush. In its haste, it bumped into the cup placed in front of Darius, spilling its contents on the table. The Noxian General jumped up, growling, shaking his now dirty paperwork with a hand and dusting his uniform's pants, drenched with hot black coffee, with the other. While he threw a death glare to his brother, the Voidling jumped on the floor and scampered as fast as its little legs could.

Quinn eyed it while it was running between Champions' legs like he had a hungry Cho'gath in tow. In his haste, he stumbled against Leona's ankles, while she was speaking with Pantheon at the door. The redhead looked down and saw the little creature shaking its head as if the shock had knocked it down. She crouched in front of it for a better look. The creature seemed harmless, nothing to do with its giant cousins, jailed in the basement of the Institute.

"Are you lost, little thing?" She asked, like the creature could answer. "It's unusual to see you without your master."

"It walks all over the place since two or three days," said Pantheon with a suspicious look hidden by his helmet's shadow.  
Leona reached for the Voidling who backed away hastily.

"Come, I'll take you back to your master."  
The Voidling seemed to hesitate between fleeing for his life, or to trusting the redhead.

"Going to the Prophet? You don't think about it Leo!" said Pantheon, disgusted.  
Leona gave him a reproachful look, but said nothing. The Voidling came back to sniff her hand. It had probably judged her trustworthy and, after a short inspection, it jumped in her hand and climbed up her arm to her shoulder. Leona stood up and walked to the door.

"Leo," called Pantheon.  
The redhead did not give any explanation as they left the room.

Quinn hardly ate anything, but she left the table with Lux and Garen. She had no game scheduled that day and wondered what she was going to do. Probably have long trek with Valor. It certainly would allow her to clear her mind. She had always loved the nature calmness when she felt confused. It had always calmed her down.

"Are you free today?" Lux asked suddenly.  
Quinn turned to her and knew at her look that the question was not innocent. The blonde obviously already knew she had no match to play.

"We said we would go shopping together!"  
Quinn remembered it was Lux who had planned that, on the party evening, when she was trying to find something to give Quinn to wear. She did not remember agreeing but obviously it was not an issue for Lux who clung to her arm, forcing Valor to fly in circles above them.

"We have all day," resumed Lux, seeming to radiate cheerfulness. "How about going to Demcia or Piltover? We could eat something there while shopping. And ... Oh, I know, I know ... It seems a shopping center just opened in Piltover, with a lots of shops in the same place. Caitlynn and Vi don't stop talking about it. We should go!"  
Quinn thought to refuse, but in front of the confident smile Lux gave her, her words remained stuck in her throat, and before she understood what she was doing, she agreed with a nod. It was only when she saw Lux clapping like a little girl she realized she had done something wrong. Shopping did not interest her, but it was too late, she could not disappoint her friend by changing her mind. So much for the hike, she was going to have to face Piltover's shopkeepers and Lux's persuasion who, she had to admit, was much more difficult to sooth than an angry bear.

The trio walked in the corridors. Garen politely refused his sister's invitation, saying he had more important things to do. The light red veil on his cheeks when he said that only meant one thing: a certain Noxian redhead had to be involved with his plan. Lux tried to make him spill the beans, heckling him gently as she usually do, making fun of his red cheeks, when they reached the great hall. It was crowded with people. Most Champions were there, looking up, quite annoyed, amazed, stunned or simply furious. An indistinct hubbub of voices buzzed around them, as if they were suddenly in a giant hive. The cause of these various reactions spread out in large letters on Hextech screens, usually used to broadcast the games in progress, lining the high walls.

The nature of the Solstice Festival which everyone was talking about for days, was suddenly revealed to them. It was a great tournament to be made over a still undetermined duration that would oppose teams on the various fields of Justice. The teams will get a predefined number of points according to their results in the tournament and the first three of them at the end of the Festival would get various rewards. Nothing unusual. They certainly had all already participated in such events. What amazed most Champions present was the aligned teams' composition. It seemed that the High Council of equity had knowingly decided to complicate their task by combining Champions who cordially hated each other. This led some of them to start complaining aloud.

Suddenly worried, Lux stopped bickering with Garen and sought instinctively her name in the list while a thrill that boded no good went up along her spine. She finally found it in the seventh or eighth team just above those of...

"We're on the same team," she was clinging to Quinn's arms, relieved to have at least one friend with her. "And Lulu is with us! She's so cute! I sometimes want to cuddle her!"

"Do not rejoice too quickly," Garen growled gloomily.  
He had just discovered he would have to team up with Sona, Draven, Annie and especially with Katarina! But it was the name following Quinn's in his sister's team who had him cringe. Lux raised her eyes to the screen where her team was listed and immediately turned pale. Her cheerfulness seemed to have been blown out like a candle by a sudden gust of wind.

"Oh no," she said, suddenly horrified. Darius and Talon are on our team!"  
Quinn suddenly felt her heart fall like a stone in her chest. She was not the only one!


End file.
